


Ocean Avenue

by flyingthesky



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Consensual Underage Sex, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Out of Character, Returning Home, Unhealthy Relationships, i was like 16 when i wrote this - Freeform, please read accordingly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-24
Updated: 2007-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/pseuds/flyingthesky
Summary: Ocean Avenue is where is all began. Ocean Avenue is where it will all end.
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Demyx/Zexion (Kingdom Hearts)





	1. Verse 1: Mr. Bright-eyes

“There's a place off Ocean Avenue where I used to sit and talk with you.   
We were both 16 and it felt so right, sleeping all day, staying up all night.   
Staying up all night.”

Demyx grinned at the broken bus stop sign. Ocean Avenue, just where he wanted to be. Broken signs, broken cars, broken windows, broken everything but people. He walked down the street, running a hand through his dirty blonde mullet and waving to the people he passed and smiling happily. Sort of.

A calloused hand grabbed his wrist lightly. Demyx turned around, slightly afraid. Oh, it was only Axel.

“You shouldn't have come back.”

Demyx shrugged. “Even if ya take me away from here, even if he's not here anymore . . . There's always a piece of us here. It draws me back.”

“You can take the boy away from it,” Axel said softly, “but you can't take it from the boy. Fine, be that way. And be careful.”

Demyx nodded curtly and continued walking down the street. Every so often, a person would stop him and he'd chat idly for a few moments. Eventually, though, he made his way down the street and turned left. Past the gaudy neon signs, past the restaurants and supermarkets . . . To a old, decrepit building that looked about ready to fall over.

He smiled faintly, and pushed open the door. Demyx scanned the lobby, it was exactly as he'd left it. He walked over to the front desk and lightly tapped the bell. A blond haired girl's head miraculously appeared from somewhere under the desk. She blinked once, twice, and vaulted herself over the desk to hug him.

“Eeeee! Demyx, is that really you? You're not some ghost of Demyx trying to warn me about the destructive path my life is taking? Because I know –”

Demyx peeled the girl off him and set her down. “Namine, it's really me. I already warned ya about the destructive path you're life is taking, but ya live in Ocean Avenue! Why should ya care?”

Namine laughed like bubbles. “I shouldn't is what you're trying to tell me.”

She walked behind the desk again and ducked down. Faint mumbling could be heard between the sounds of keys hitting each other. Namine popped back up and was proudly dangling a set of keys from her index finger. Demyx grabbed them and thanked her, she waved it off.

“Lifetime rent is hard to come by nowadays, Demyx. You are so lucky I actually kept the keys.”

“Gotcha.” Demyx laughed. “I'll take good care of these then, yeah?”

Namine said something, but it was lost as Demyx sprinted up the stairs. He was careful, as always, to skip the missing sixteenth step and the squeaky twenty-eighth one. Nothing had changed, and Demyx was eternally gratefully for that.

Once he reached the third landing, he walked down the hall. One hundred and seven, eight, nine . . . One hundred and ten. He slipped the key into the lock and it made an oddly satisfying click! as it opened. Demyx pushed the door open and blinked in surprise. There was a slender, near anorexic, boy on the bed. He was curled up and asleep.

Dropping his bag, Demyx cautiously walked over and tapped the boy on the shoulder. The boy just shifted and groaned a little, so Demyx shook him carefully.

“Roxas-baby . . . Roxas, wake up.”

“. . . nn . . . Who . . .?”

“C'mon, ya can't tell me ya don't remember your old room mate!”

“. . . nn . . . Dem?”

“Ya got it, Roxas-baby! Hey, have ya been doing drugs again?”

“. . . No.”

“Liar. I saw Axel earlier, and he only hangs around here when you're not doing good.”

“. . . I tried not to. Sorry.”

“S'okay, Roxas-baby. Just try to keep off it now that I'm back, yeah?”

“. . . Okay.”

“Good boy.”

Demyx ruffled Roxas' blond spikes, making it even more of a mess, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Roxas crawled over and rested his head in Demyx's lap.

“Dem, are you real?”

“I'm as real as ya are, Roxas-baby.”

“Okay, good. Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I should be. If I'm not, ya know where to find me.”

“Dem, stay with me. Please?”

“Okay, Roxas-baby. Anything ya say.”

Roxas' eyes fluttered shut, and Demyx smiled lightly. He kissed the boy's forehead and shifted him so he could get up and walk over to his discarded bag. He sat next to it and unzipped it, then cautiously pulled out a well-worn acoustic guitar.

Long, graceful fingers strummed out a shallow, broken melody before switching to something a little more deep and meaningful. Roxas didn't stir as Demyx indulged in a little trip down memory lane.

“And this is where I give my heart you you. It doesn't matter, 'cause I'm with you. Save me, catch me, drown me in love . . . So long as it's you, anything will do.”

Demyx's eyes softened slightly as memory's gates burst open to welcome him with open arms. He hummed softly, still playing, and gladly went to meet them.

\----

“In a labyrinth of disaster, you are the end. Let me find my way . . . Out of this mess.”

The solemn words floated through the air to the tune of a new guitar. The slate-haired boy that had been walking past stopped suddenly and sat down next to the dusty blond haired singer. He looked out towards the speeding traffic and turned to the singer.

“My name is Zexion, what's yours?”

The tune slowed to a halt and the boy turned to look at him. “M'name is Demyx. Nice ta meetcha.”

“Likewise.”

The two boys stared at each other for a moment before breaking into smiles. Each extended a hand, and they shook as if agreeing to some multimillion dollar deal. Neither knew what they were agreeing on, but both felt safe in doing so.

“So, Zexion, was it? I haven't seen ya around before, ya new?”

“Sort of. I used to come here every so often, but now I live here.”

“I see. Well, do you want to grab a bite?”

“Sure.”

They walked down the street, Demyx talking animatedly and Zexion listening with a faint smile playing on his lips. When they reached the café, a thin boy greeted Demyx and sat them down at a table. He didn't take their orders, just brought them food. Demyx thanked the boy and turned to Zexion. He looked down at the salad and blinked.

“You come here often?”

“You could say that.”

“Roxas-baby wouldn't know what ya wanted if ya didn't come here.”

“Roxas . . . Baby?”

“Yeah, Roxas-baby. Been calling him that since fourth grade and he never objected so I kept on.”

“And what grade are you now?”

“Something like a junior. I guess, but our school's got a odd grade system.”

“That makes you . . . Sixteen?”

“And a half, yeah.”

The conversation continued in much the same manner, with Roxas occasionally stopping by to refill their drinks or serve them crackers and toast. Saltine crackers for Demyx and toast for Zexion, who ate it with boysenberry jelly. They sat in café until dusk, Zexion finally excusing himself to return home. Demyx stood up and offered to walk him here, insisting that Roxas would be fine without him.

A genuine smile graced Zexion's lips as he accepted the offer and Roxas came by to hand Demyx something. Demyx read it and gave a very exaggerated sigh as he dumped around twenty dollars in change and ones into Roxas' outstretched hand. Zexion raised an eyebrow, but Demyx didn't notice. He just grabbed Zexion's hand and gleefully led him out of the café. 

“What was that?”

Demyx paused and turned around. “What was what?”

“That scene. You giving your money to Roxas. Why?”

A sad smile. “Because that's how I pay for my lifetime rent. As opposed to Roxas, who actually has a job and patience to work with people.”

“Where do you live?”

“Ocean Avenue.”

A curt nod. “Figures. You live in the largest apartment complex around.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, it's just . . . I sort of wish I lived with you.”

Demyx smiled brightly and grabbed Zexion's wrist, pulling him closer. Zexion looked slightly taken aback, but relaxed when Demyx hugged him close.

“I kinda wish ya lived with me too.”

Soft, muffled laughter. “Is that a pick-up line?”

“Only if ya'd like it to be.”

Zexion only buried his head into Demyx's chest and mumbled something. Laughter like running water, a chaste kiss and a meandering walk home later the answer was apparent enough to both boys. When Demyx finally slipped into the room he shared with Roxas, it was well past curfew. Demyx didn't even bat an eyelash when Roxas crawled into his bed and wrapped his arms around him.

A sleepy whisper. “He's pretty.”

A kiss to the top of Roxas' head. “I know.”

“If . . . Hurts . . . I'll . . . Yeah.”

Another chaste kiss, “I know.”

And as the pair drifted into dreamland, each was plagued with dreams of another. Demyx dreamt of blueberry muffins, minty fresh breath and late night study sessions. Roxas, however, dreamt of candles, curry sauce, and the taste of burnt marshmallows.

When they woke, the pastel shades of early morning has started to ebb and bright morning sunshine flooded in through the windows. Both boys smiled faintly as clothing was shed and put on. Shoes were tied and book bags picked up as both boys rushed down the stairs and down the street to the bustling school yard. As a lanky boy with hair of flames dragged Roxas in the general direction of his first class, Demyx stopped and smiled at the school. Whatever happened, a new song was waiting to be written.


	2. Verse 2: You're Hazardous

“There's a place on the corner of Cherry Street, we would walk on the beach in our bare feet.  
We were both 18, and it felt so right, sleeping all day, staying up all night,  
Staying up all night.”

“Promise my oblivion.”

Axel stared at the delicate blond, who stared straight back. What exactly had he gotten himself into? Roxas, Axel knew, was not exactly the best person to love but that hadn't stopped him from falling right on in to those oceans Roxas called eyes. After a moment, a curious smirk made it's way to his lips and he pulled Roxas close.

“As long as you promise mine.”

The blond clung to Axel and shuddered. How long had it been? A week at least, surely. He hardly noticed Demyx bounding happily into the room, carefully dragging the slate-haired band geek from the other day behind him.

“Roxas-baby! It's lunchtime, let's go!”

Roxas let go of Axel reluctantly, lacing their fingers together. He followed Demyx quietly, feeling just a little sorry for the new toy. What was his name again? Lexar . . . No. Max . . . No. Zex . . . Closer? Zexion! He turned to Axel, who was looking at him thoughtfully.

“Demyx met him yesterday. He's the kid that comes to Cherry Street every Wednesday and stares out the window at Demyx.”

Axel nodded. “I see. When does your shift end today?”

“Eight-thirty. Yours?”

“Eight. I'll drop by, okay?”

“Okay.”

Axel might have made another comment, but it was drowned out by them entering the school cafeteria. All four boys grabbed a tray and sought food. Axel chose a curry bun, Roxas chose melon. Demyx picked up an apple, a red bean bun and a package of crackers before turning to Zexion, who was trying to decide between a Caesar salad and a Chinese chicken salad. Axel simply picked up the Chinese chicken salad, dropped it on the boy's tray and tugged them over to checkout. A mere five minutes later, the quartet was seated outside.

Demyx had already inhaled a good half of the apple on the walk outside, and was now waving the half-eaten apple around while talking to Zexion about something. Roxas' lips curled up into a small smile as he leaned back in Axel's bent knee. There was a small silence between them, as they ate.

“You're not going to bitch and moan like you usually do?”

Roxas shrugged. “This one seems alright. Sort of. I guess. What do you think Axel?”

“I think he's the type with commitment issues.”

“. . . I think, for once,” Roxas said carefully, “Demyx should figure something out for himself.”

“Are you trying to teach him a lesson for taking your stash?”

“. . .”

Axel sighed. Sometimes Roxas didn't act like he was about to graduate high school. Then again, Axel didn't much act like it either. Normal seniors don't regularly play the penis game.

Demyx interrupted: “Roxas-baby, come share with me!”

“. . . Unsalted?”

“Nope,” Demyx said, “they're saltine crackers, silly.”

Roxas chewed on his bottom lip before scooting over to Demyx and taking a cracker. He took a bite and promptly handed it back to Demyx.

“Too salty.”

Demyx shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Zexion interrupted: “You're not going to . . . To eat that. Are you?”

“Yeah,” Demyx said slowly, “is there a reason why I shouldn't?”

Zexion cringed slightly. “I mean, it's just . . . _You know._ ”

Demyx blinked. “Know what?”

Zexion hid behind a hand. “The _germs_.”

Roxas blinked. Axel could be heard vaguely snickering in the background, and Demyx stared blankly. Zexion peeked out between his fingers.

“Eh?”

Zexion cringed again. “Aren't you in the least bit concerned with your personal hygiene?”

“. . . Zexion,” Roxas interrupted quietly, “you didn't seem too concerned last night.”

Demyx swatted at Roxas, who yelped slightly as Zexion turned a rather lovely shade of crimson. He hid behind a paperback novel, accepting profuse apologies from Demyx. Roxas, meanwhile, nursed a bruised ego with no help from Axel.

“Roxas,” Axel said sternly, “don't you think that was a bit harsh?”

The thin blonde responded by standing up slowly and flipping off Axel. He stormed away to God knows where, and a wide-eyed Demyx chewed nervously on his lower lip. He had half stood and was after to chase Roxas down when Axel stopped him.

“He'll be fine. Have a little faith in his intelligence.”

Worry-tinged blue eyes closed forcefully. “ _And our flavours clash, but we just seem to fit._ ”

\----

“ _And I know that this is useless._ ”

A sharp knock at the door snapped Demyx from his trance. He carefully set the guitar down and stood up to answer the door. Before he could though, it burst open and Axel stormed in. Demyx stared.

“What in the blazes are ya doing here?!”

Axel simply ignored Demyx and shook Roxas violently. “Wake the fuck up! This is the third fucking time this week you haven't come to work. What the fuck is wrong with you Roxas?!”

Demyx stepped forward to break them apart, but stopped as Roxas woke up. Taking a moment to adjust to the dim light, Roxas' eyes narrowed dangerously. Demyx inadvertently took a step backwards as a loud _SMACK!_ rang across the room.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

Roxas pulled the covers back over himself. “Being a moron.”

Axel momentarily nursed the red, hand-shaped mark that now took up most of his right cheek before yanking the covers off of Roxas. Two quick motions later, both were on the floor engaged in a rather vicious cross between a fist-fight and a make-out session. Demyx sighed, picking up his guitar and walking out. He made sure to pocket his keys and close the door behind him. Absolutely nothing had changed between those two, it was almost scary how easily they seemed to lace words like _bastard_ and _fucker_ with ones like _honey_ and _love_.

And yet, they never once did more damage than a bruised ego and a split lip. Over the course of ten, probably fifteen, years . . . There were mazes of scars across their chests, from fights for pride of the other or fights between pride. There were matching burns from when Axel had blown up the Chemistry lab by mixing the wrong chemicals and Roxas had to drag dead weight across the room and out of the blaze. Most of all, though, there were stories written in the code of love. That was what Demyx had always envied.

“Are they going at it again?”

Demyx jumped slightly at the quiet words from the tiny red-head standing in the doorway across the hall. There was a slight laughter to the question, like this was nothing that wasn't expected, which contradicted the worried tinge to her clear blue eyes.

Demyx gave her a smile. “Ya know it. Axel's having one-on-one with Roxas, yeah?”

She smiled back. “I never understood why Axel became a therapist.”

“No one did. It's just the way life works, yeah?”

Apple-crisp laughter. “I suppose.”

Demyx saluted her to signal the end of their conversation and headed out of the building. There was some place he had to see. It was supposed to be tomorrow, but things always bent schedule-wise when Axel and Roxas were involved.

A quick walk down the street, just a little bit past the Cherry Street Diner where Roxas had worked since ever, and into the small lot that was probably once a park. He sat down on a minuscule patch of what might have once been a sprawling lawn and adjusted his guitar.

The reprise, he had learned in college, was when a character repeated a song over again with slightly different lyrics. It was supposed to represent the changes in the story. Or something like that, the teacher's words had always blended back into the music of life for him. He had never understood the significance of going to college for, of all things, music training. Roxas had told him that he absolutely had to go to college though.

And so Demyx had picked the exact place where the logical could never follow. The meaning of reprise had never hit him because “ _the return to a earlier musical number later in a show, often with modified text_ ” makes about zero sense when your “show” is life and your “song” doesn't seem to change. He took a deep breath.

“ _I'm picking up the pieces of this broken fantasy, there's an emptiness right where my heart should be_ . . .”

Setting the guitar down next to him, Demyx buried his face in calloused hands. There was no point in a reprise of a song written for the only one who couldn't hear. Even if the lyrics changed, the message still might not transcend logic into pure music.

That was why he envied Axel and Roxas. They both shared a common language, _hazard_. The pair of seemingly mismatched boys had a secret language that required no words. Every time Axel pulled Roxas out of bed or took away a cigarette, he was saying “ _I love you too much to let you ruin yourself_ ” in the secret Axel and Roxas way.

Demyx shared no such connection with Zexion. All he had ever known was music, emotion in other words. The secret language he had constructed for himself was based around chords and scales. Zexion knew nothing but logic. His secret language was grounded in things that made sense. There was nothing less compatible than music and logic. What Demyx was saying couldn't be translated to Zexion without losing everything.

“Damn it all. Damn it fucking all! Why? Why can I write songs that make people cry? Why does _every fucking one but him hear_?”

Demyx locked his fingers in his dusty blonde hair and screamed. For all he was worth, he screamed out four years of idiocy, heartbreak, unwritten melodies and anger. Four years of _I miss you_ 's, letters of regret, empty laughter and tears. Fours years of everything he wasn't.

And though he was sure everyone passing by could hear the desperation in such a scream, he knew that no one would stop. Traffic wouldn't halt because he finally broke. It couldn't. 

The world had to continue because there were a thousand others just like him that were finally breaking down. It had to pretend it was still happy. Like a scene of gore as viewed the distinctly rose-tinted glass, the world had to pretend that it was okay at any cost.

Because, after all, there's no such thing as broken people.


	3. Verse 3: Simple Reprise

“There's a piece of you that's here with me. It's everywhere I go, it's everything I see.  
When I sleep, I dream and it gets me by, I can make believe that you're here tonight.  
That you're here tonight.”

They found him still sitting there, staring blankly into traffic. It had been four, maybe five, hours since he had left and they were worried. After all, everyone knew that you couldn't leave Demyx alone. Creatures of song need attention as much as they need food.

Axel reached out, but Roxas pulled him back. He sat down next to Demyx and picked up the guitar to pluck out a simple, halting melody. A singing voice of dying light sang the lullaby of the broken to him.

“ _Your eyes tell a different story, why are you so sad? Are you looking for someone that you can't have? Your heart is bleeding, lie broken on the ground._ ”

Polluted ocean eyes looked at the singer and then back to the traffic. A clear voice, so different from the other, sang out the next piece.

“ _Let it out, cry if you must._ ”

Both stopped. A silence of understanding passed before Roxas stood up. He offered his hand to Demyx, who took it and stood. Those polluted eyes looked into glassy ones and Axel couldn't even say anything when Demyx pulled Roxas in for a kiss.

As much as Axel and Roxas were creatures of touch and feeling, Demyx was a creature of fragile glass that needed to be held, to be admired. Roxas knew, through years of sleepy midnight kisses, and Axel knew the way it worked. Demyx breaks, Roxas sings, Demyx needs to be put back together. It was the same cycle that happened every time.

Axel had actually failed the subject study paper he'd written about Demyx. Okay, well not about Demyx, but about the relationships between people. And the teacher had given him some shit about how real relationships didn't work like that. It was the only paper Axel ever failed.

“This is when you tell me what's wrong,” Roxas said flatly.

Demyx smiled weakly. “I'm stupid, that's all.”

“There's more to it than that,” Axel interrupted, “am I right?”

“Oh. You mean the things like these past four years have been hell, I suck as finding the good things in life, and I still can't write a nice, happy love song?”

Demyx laughed, mirthlessly. Roxas pulled him close and whispered something to him. Axel heard something that sounded something like a sob and felt appropriately frustrated. Hadn't he become what he was because he wanted to help these very people?

Demyx's phone suddenly rang, an inappropriately happy jingle spewing forth, and he slipped it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. He slides the top half up, lifting it to his ear and holding it just the tiniest bit apart like he always does. His ears are sensitive to touch, and phones always irritated him.

“Hello?”

There is a slight pause, Demyx chewing on the left edge of his lip as Axel and Roxas watch. They're not certain who it is, but Demyx seems to. The person on the other side is talking, and the small, static-y murmur of telephone communication is all they know of what's being said. The words can't be distinguished, but Demyx's answer is the only clue they need.

“Come and find me then.”

The phone slides shut with a small _click_ and Demyx pockets it once more. There's the slightest sparkle in those eyes as the tiniest smile plays on Demyx's lips.

“Who was that?”

“A nobody.”

And then Demyx picks up his guitar, straps it back on, and runs. He laughs freely, happily almost, and reaches beach along Cherry Street in almost no time. The shoes Demyx had almost never worn before going off to college are kicked off, left forgotten and he dances along the edges of the water.

Roxas and Axel follow, though slower, and both of them kick off hastily put on shoes too. The three are again, respectively, ten and twelve. The two hazards try to call bright-eyes away because he's drifting and his pants are getting soaked from the waves licking at them.

“Ocean Avenue,” Demyx said softly, “is made up of all the bits and pieces that people have left behind. We never truly leave, because we've always forgotten something.”

Roxas slipped his hand into Demyx's and clasped it lightly. Demyx looks out towards the ocean and points to a place just beneath the horizon.

“D'ya see that spot there? That's where my nobody is coming from.”

A slight nod from Roxas, who is attempting not to pay attention to the fingers dancing along his waistband. Axel squints and looks where Demyx is pointing.

“Isn't that near Destiny Islands?”

Roxas swatted the hands along his waist away. “You mean Hawaii, Axel. Destiny Islands became Hawaii a couple of years back.”

“Whatever. I never could keep up with all the new names. Aren't we called Los Angeles now?”

Demyx nodded absent-mindedly. “Something like that.”

He clasps Roxas' hand just a tiny bit tighter and it's then that Roxas understands that Demyx is afraid. Of what, Roxas isn't entirely sure, but he is definitely afraid. The three of them stand there for a few moments more, each going over his thoughts on this ever-changing world, until the waves lapping at their feet start to give them chills.

Axel, the unofficial “mother” of their trio, says it's time to go. Roxas follows Axel, but Demyx stay for a couple moments more before running after the pair.

“ _An ocean between me and you, and yet memory rings true._ ”

\----

“That doesn't sound much like you,” Zexion muses, “but at the same time it is your characteristically complicated love song. Why do you do that?”

Demyx keeps playing, tucking his feet under him, as he thinks of his why. Why does he only writes song where the love is complicated, instead of the simple and pure love he has?

“I think,” he says softly, “that befriending hazards and living in Ocean Avenue has tainted the view of everything.”

Zexion sighs and opens his book back up, leaning back against the bed. Demyx was in the middle of composing a song and nothing that anyone said was going to interrupt him. With appropriately distracted comments when asked a question, Demyx would never know that maybe Zexion wasn't paying as much attention to the book as he seemed to be.

In fact, Zexion hardly ever read his book when Demyx was composing. It was slightly difficult to concentrate when the music would stop for a second, be rearranged, and then played over again. A person could get used to anything though, and Zexion was used to Demyx's compositions after they finished studying. Reading just meant he couldn't enjoy the unfinished melody as well if his mind was occupied with words.

Zexion never told Demyx this, but he liked this quiet half-silence more than anything. He also hadn't told Demyx that maybe, just maybe he was going to go off on a sort of adventure in college. It wasn't like he didn't love it in Ocean Avenue, but he felt the tiniest bit constricted in the never-changing scenery.

He felt like he should be off in a distant land researching dinosaur fossils or off discovering new kinds of plants. Well, maybe not field work. He didn't particularly like paleontology because the dust it kicked up irritated his nose and made him sneeze. Same story with herbology, the pollen didn't particularly agree with him. At all.

“How can ya stand that book? Ahab is a freak.”

Zexion looked up. “It's a _classic_ , Demyx.”

“So? Doesn't mean it's interesting.”

“Demyx,” Zexion said softly, “it's a book. I don't have to like it to read it.”

“Ahab is still a freak.”

Zexion smiled ever so slightly. Demyx had returned to composing when he realized that he probably wouldn't get through to Zexion. Although, Zexion did agree that Ahab reminded him of the crazy biology professor he had last year in AP Biology. That freak spent an entire grading period talking about the heart and blood and all these crazy theories he had.

The entire class still passed the AP exam by a fluke. One of the free-response question had to do with evolution and everyone had written about mutations in the heart. Then, about thirty of the hundred multiple choice question had to do with circulation and the heart. It was a rather odd exam, but no one complained.

“What do ya want do be when ya grow up?”

“. . . Grow up? A scholar of some sort, I suppose. I'm not sure yet.”

Demyx paused. “English. Ya should major in English, with all the reading you do.”

“Then I suppose you'd want to go to Julliard?”

“Maybe. I'm not _that_ good though, so probably not,” Demyx murmured.

“You should still try for Julliard,” Zexion said, “and I was thinking of either English or Biology.”

Demyx grinned. “How 'bout this: ya get AP State Scholar or higher and I apply to Julliard.”

Zexion stopped to think about that for a moment. He'd taken quite a few AP classes and passed all the exams. How hard would it be to get AP State Scholar? It shouldn't be that hard, it wasn't like any of his current classes were extremely difficult.

He agreed before he knew what he was doing, “Deal.”

Demyx smiled ever so slightly. Zexion, for all he was incredibly smart, tended to be a little indecisive and apathetic. It was like he didn't care about what happened to him as long as he had books to read and was still breathing. There's a slight creak in the bed frame as Zexion sits down next to Demyx.

“Ya promise me, right?”

A soft, slightly minty kiss is all the answer he needs. Music suddenly forgotten, the guitar is gently taken from him and placed on the floor by the bed. Demyx breathes in the crisp scent of whatever laundry detergent Zexion uses mixed with the earthy, herbal scent of his shampoo as he allows himself to be pushed down onto the bed.

There's soft laughter between the two of them because the only thing stopping them is that Roxas is coming home in less than ten minutes and neither of them think that Roxas would be particularly happy with the scene he'd likely be greeted with. They settle for featherlight touches, quite whispering and a few more minty kisses.

“I think we still have homework.”

“Only if ya promise me kisses if I get the questions right.”

When Roxas came home, Zexion was helping Demyx with his AP Statistics homework. Neither particularly cared for the subject, Zexion being more concerned with sciences and Demyx being more concerned with music. Still, the homework had to be done and they had the class together anyway.

Roxas was mildly disturbed. No one should have that much fun doing math. And kisses should definitely not be exchanged for right answers. Nevermind that he and Axel had totally done the same thing. Still did the same thing. Stupid Axel and his stupid psychology homework.

But still. At least they all had more of a future than he did. He was average, mediocre. He wasn't good at getting into people's heads like Axel, or finding something in nothing like Zexion. Heck, he wasn't even as good at composing as Demyx and they studied the same damn instrument.

Demyx didn't notice that Roxas was deep in these and other philosophical thoughts as he dropped his stuff haphazardly on the floor.

"Going somewhere?"

"Axel's. I won't be back, but you still can't use my bed."

"Gotcha. Be safe."

"I will."

Demyx waved absent mindedly. A few more problems and he was free from homework. The house was empty and that low, husky voice was kinda difficult to ignore.

“Later.”

A small, secret smile and Demyx is once again pinned to the bed.


	4. Verse 4: Light My Candle

“I remember the look in your eyes when I told you that this was goodbye.  
You were begging me not tonight, not here, not now.  
We're looking up at the same night sky and I keep pretending the sun will not rise.  
We'll be together for one more night. Somewhere, somehow.”

There is a small silence known as slumber passing over one of the two boys currently tangled in a nest of limbs in the creaky bed. The summer breeze flits through the window, and Demyx's nose twitches. He mumbles lightly into the chest of the other and curls his arms around tighter.

Ever so quietly, the other untangles himself from Demyx and sits up. The blond mumbles something, but the other runs slender fingers through his hair and he's quiet once more. The other smiles softly and sings a soft lullaby.

“ _You're sending me away, by the light of dawn I trace your face. There's a faintly blue tint to the light as I bend down and kiss your lips._ ”

A short, sweet kiss. Demyx stirs again, and the other lets him wake. There is a sleepy murmur as the musician yawns and sits up a little. He blinks, and smiles.

“Couldn't sleep?”

The other shrugs. “I'm an insomniac.”

“You're also incredibly smart and great in bed. I'm guessing those are products of insomnia?”

“Possibly.”

There is a soft kiss to his collarbone and he lets his eyes flutter closed. The kiss tells him everything he wants to know.

“I love you, Demyx.”

\----

“What are you afraid of?”

Demyx looked up at the lanky red head standing in front of him and shrugged. He plucked aimlessly at the strings of his guitar.

“Time. Shadows. Distance. Spiders.”

“You've always been afraid of shadows and spiders, which leaves time and distance. If I take a wild, wild stab and say that your _nobody_ is the emo-haired kid that broke your heart . . . Would I be anywhere close to the truth of it?”

Demyx shrugged again. “Dunno. Depends on if ya mean Zexion or another.”

“How many emo-haired kids broke your heart, boy?”

“Also depends. What do ya think is emo hair?”

The red head threw up his hands in frustration. He paced the small room. The paper thin boy sitting on the other bed pulled the sheet up and dropped it. He repeated until the red head stopped and stared at Demyx.

“You are worse than Roxas when he's back on drugs.”

Demyx shrugged again. “Don't exactly care.”

The paper thing blond let go of the sheet and stood up. He walked the short distance to Demyx and stood in front of him for a second. Demyx looked up and shrugged. The boy slapped him and fell to his knees, sobbing.

“You. Let us help, because after not seeing you for four years and thinking I'd never see you again that's all I really want. I want to see you happy again. _I want my Dem back._ ”

Demyx set the guitar down and ruffled the blond's hair. He smiled sadly and looked up at the red head. Sliding off the bed, Demyx sat down next to the blond.

“Sorry, Roxas-baby, this just ain't something ya can help with.”

Roxas dragged a hand across his eyes and sniffled. “The fuck it isn't. _Anything_ can be helped.”

“Look at me,” Demyx said softly, “do I look like I can be helped?”

Roxas looked up. “Fuck you, if I can helped then there are no unworkable cases.”

Demyx leaned forward and touched his forehead to Roxas', they stayed like that for a second and then Demyx abruptly look away.

“If it were Zexion, what would your advice be?”

The red head sat down next to the pair. “That the fucker can go to hell in my book, but if you really love something then you go after it. There's no point in sitting and waiting.”

Demyx turned to look at him and sighed. The red head patted him on the back and offered a small smile in return. Demyx closed his eyes and let them flutter back open.

“Care to tell me exactly why I should chase after someone who I'm pretty damn sure hates me?”

A small shrug. “Because I know that sometimes hate isn't hate, just uncertainty?”

“Right,” Demyx said slowly, “because Roxas-baby would rather hit you than hump you.”

Roxas punched Demyx lightly and he laughed before hugging Roxas tightly and shaking him from side to side. Roxas shoved Demyx off and rubbed his temples.

“Headache.”

A small frown, “Sorry, I forget sometimes.”

\----

“In fact, I think I've forgotten the entire chapter.”

Demyx laughed freely and happily. The slate haired boy sitting across from him, however, didn't seem quite so amused. In fact, he seemed annoyed.

“Demyx, apply yourself. I know that this isn't the easiest, but it's not extremely difficult either.”

Demyx twirled his pencil. “Refresh my memory.”

The other boy sighed and began pointing at the book in front of Demyx and explaining things in a smooth, even voice. Demyx leaned forward on the low table and nodded ever so slightly as he tried to pay attention. There was a light rap on Demyx' forehead.

“Demyx,” he chided, “pay attention, at the very least.”

Demyx pouted. “But, _Zexion_! I can never concentrate when you're around.”

“I honestly think you have ADD. Until a doctor confirms it though, I still believe that you can concentrate fine. So pay attention.”

Demyx puffed out his cheeks again and pouted. Zexion shook his head and set his pencil down on the table. He cupped the side of Demyx's face in one hand and smiled gently.

“Please?”

Demyx leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Zexion's lips. He smiled brightly and pointed to the book.

“I understand this.” He pointed to another section. “But this is super-confusing.”

Zexion nodded and started pointing at the book again. Demyx nodded throughout the explanation and stuck explanatory post-it notes all over the page. Zexion merely shook his head at the absurdity of Demyx's notations and kept explaining the important points in the muck that the school board called “AP Statistics.”

They sat like that, talking of such mundane subjects as statistics, for a long while. Roxas came home and ruffled Demyx's hair and Demyx rolled his eyes accordingly.

“Shouldn't you be somewhere else?”

Roxas rolled his eyes too. “Axel fucked up again.”

And that was the only explanation either of them got. Roxas, although he protected what he loved dearly, was not above withholding things in return for obedience. Particularly Axel's obedience, which Demyx always thought was strange because Roxas didn't exactly pay attention to Axel when he wanted obedience. Especially when Axel wanted Roxas to stay still for ten minutes so he could take a picture of him.

Roxas hated staying still. For anyone.

“Demyx.” Zexion waved a hand in front of him. “Back to statistics.”

“Right.”

Being ripped from his analysis of Roxas, Demyx turned back to the book and listened raptly while Zexion finished off his explanation of the chapter. He was vaguely aware that just outside his vision, Roxas was curled up into a tiny ball of bitterness. 

He also knew that in about ten minutes Axel would show up and a very disturbing scene would occur. Demyx probably should have been used to the way Axel and Roxas made up, but it still disturbed him a little. Okay, a lot. People should not be able to fight and still make out at the same time. It just wasn't normal.

“Demyx? Would you like to go for a walk?”

\----

“Demyx, did you hear me?”

Demyx looked up at Axel and shrugged. Axel ran a hand through his messy red spikes and sighed heavily. Roxas stood up and held out a hand to Demyx.

“Let's go for a walk.”

Demyx made no move to get up, so Roxas motioned for Axel to pick him up. Axel did so, and slung him over his shoulder. Roxas grabbed his door keys off the floor and they three went on their merry little way.

Once they reached the lobby of the building, Axel set Demyx down and brushed him off. Demyx made a face.

“It's, like, four in the morning. I don't wanna go on a fucking walk.”

Roxas fixed Demyx with a stare. “We're going on a walk. You are going to like it.”

With that, he turned on his heel and started walking down the street. Demyx sighed and followed him, absent-mindedly noting that there were still cars zooming around in the streets at four in the morning. He'd never been out here so late, he figured that the world went to sleep when he went to sleep. There wasn't much reason to think otherwise.

Roxas walked with definite purpose and Demyx just sort of followed without really paying any attention. Axel trailed after them, and the trio wandered until Roxas stopped in front of a large ferris wheel and pointed to it.

“We are going to ride the ferris wheel.”

Demyx gave Roxas a slightly skeptical look. It was four in the morning, there wasn't anybody working the ferris wheel. Plus, he was pretty sure it was solar-powered. Demyx gave Roxas the benefit of the doubt as they walked toward the ferris wheel, though. Axel didn't seem to concerned and that was reason enough to Demyx to have a little faith in Roxas, crazy as he was.


	5. Verse 5: Last Act

“If I could find you now, things would get better.  
We could leave this town, and run forever.  
I know someplace, somehow, we'll be together.  
Let your waves crash down on me, and take me away, yeah.”

The trio walked up to the ferris wheel and Roxas walked up to the booth and peered inside. After a moment's deliberation, he pulled back and grinned.

“Sora's on duty. That means the back door's open.”

With that, Roxas curved around the booth and tugged on the door handle. It swung open and he stepped inside. There was a sleeping figure on the chair inside and Roxas shook him gently and whispered something to him. The figure groaned.

“Please, Sora. I need you to turn on the ferris wheel.”

The figure batted Roxas away and rubbed his eyes before blinking a couple times and pointing at Roxas.

“It's four in the morning! I am so not turning on the ferris wheel for you.”

Roxas smirked. “I'll tell Kairi you skipped out on shopping because you were fucking Leon again.”

The boy pouted and ran a hand through his brunette hair. He sighed and grabbed a pair of keys off a hook by the door before walking out. He sauntered over to the ferris wheel and shoved the key in the slot. With a quick turn, the ferris wheel started up and the boy beckoned for them to come over. He pointed at Roxas again.

“You keep that little fact to yourself, okay?”

Roxas smiled. “Sure thing.”

Roxas climbed into the closest cage and sat down. Demyx climbed in and sat opposite from Roxas, while Axel opted to sit next to him. Sora shut the door and kicked the ferris wheel into motion. He swore some, but finally got it started.

The ride lurched into motion and Demyx grabbed onto the sides of the cage as it settled itself. After a few moments, he let go and looked out the chain link walls. The city below glittered with neon lights and moving cars, it was quite pretty once Demyx stopped fearing for his life.

He still wasn't sure exactly why there was a operator at the ferris wheel at four in the morning. Demyx had long since stopped questioning the inhabitants of Ocean Avenue though. For all he knew, the poor guy lived in that booth.

Demyx smiled sadly.

“Hey Zexion,” he whispered, “I'm at the place closest to the sky. Please come soon.”

\----

“I hope you realize that there are things closer to the sky than a ferris wheel.”

Demyx rolled his eyes and turned to face the slate-haired boy that he was dragging around. He pointed to the ferris wheel.

“That's the closest to sky anyone can ever get because when you're at the top of a ferris wheel, ya feel so serene. And it's not how close distance-wise, it's how close heart-wise.”

The boy shook his head. “That made no sense.”

Demyx rolled his eyes again and dragged him over to the ferris wheel. They climbed into a cage and waved to the attendant that shut the door. Rather, Demyx waved and Zexion looked out the window nonchalantly. The ferris wheel lurched into motion again and Demyx laughed as Zexion nearly fell out of his seat.

There was silence in the cage as it ascended, minus Demyx drumming his fingers on the metal bench. They had reached the top when Demyx gave Zexion a lopsided grin.

“If ya kiss them person you love at the top of a ferris wheel and make a wish, it comes true.”

Zexion quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so? We just might have to test that theory.”

And with that, Demyx was swept into a kiss.

\----

“Demyx. Wake up!”

Demyx felt someone shake him lightly. He mumbled something lightly and turned over. The shaking got harder and Demyx tried to swat the person away. Tried being the operative word, because the shaking continued and he groaned.

“Demyx, wake up!”

More mumbling and another attempt to swat the person away and there was still shaking. Demyx finally gave up and cautiously cracked open one eye. He stared into a pair of bright blue eyes framed by straight red hair. Feminine straight hair. He blinked twice.

The world stopped being so fuzzy and a the small red-head, standing akimbo, became clearer. Demyx tilted his head to the side and blinked again.

“Kairi?”

A sigh of relief. “I was beginning to worry you weren't going to wake up.”

“What're ya doing here?”

A shrug. “Axel barged into my room and asked me rather rudely to look after you and wake you up before 12 because you've been sleeping too much. Are you hungry? Roxas said to send you down to the café for breakfast.”

“Not really. I better go anyway. Thank ya for watching me though, Kairi.”

Kairi left, waving to him, and he waved back. She shut the door behind her. He brushed some invisible dust off himself and then got up to stretch. A shower would have to wait, he had about ten minutes to get his ass down to the café before Axel came looking for him.

A quick scan of the room located his bags of clothes that had probably arrived sometime yesterday. He walked over and rummaged through one of the bags until he produced a half-way decent set of clothing. He changed, grabbed his keys and sprinted down to the café.

Roxas waved to him when he entered and slipped into the kitchen to get Demyx food. A glance around told Demyx exactly where Axel was, and he walked over to sit down.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

\----

“A good morning to ya too.”

Demyx smiled and wrapped an arm around Zexion. He fiddled idly with the sheets and looked at Zexion out of the corner of his eye. There was a slightly wrong air about him and Demyx wasn't quite sure exactly what was wrong. He laced his fingers with Zexion's and rested his head on Zexion's shoulder.

They stayed like that for a minute, at most, before Zexion ran a hand through Demyx's hair and sighed. Demyx waited for Zexion to speak first.

“. . . I'm leaving.”

Demyx waited some more.

“Destiny Islands has an excellent biology program. They've also produced a fair number of modern novelists and their university has individualized major options.”

A slight nod from Demyx as he waited for the rest of the story.

“I'm sorry. It's a full scholarship.”

A soft smile. “It's okay. I'm going to Proof of Existence Conservatory of Music.”

“You can't be serious.”

A grin. “Dead serious. It's not a full scholarship like yours, but I'll do fine. I might actually get a _real_ job even! Think about that, me in a real job.”

“I . . . Can't even imagine.”

There was a small lapse in conversation as both boys mulled over the information they had just received. Demyx laced their fingers together tighter and placed a quick kiss on Zexion's lips.

“I'll miss you.”

\----

“Did ya miss me while I was sleeping away the days?”

Axel shrugged and motioned for Demyx to sit down. He obliged and slid into the booth to wait for Roxas to bring him food. He noticed the mess of papers flung over the table and leaned forward to get a better look at them. From what he could tell, they were case files of people Axel probably helped. He sat back up just as Roxas returned with a omelette and a glass of milk.

Demyx thanked him, but Roxas waved it off and went to go wait on another table. He ate his omelette slowly, savoring the slightly salty and eggy taste. Axel looked up at Demyx and looked back down at the papers in front of him.

“Shit. You're a bona fide musician now, aren't you?”

Demyx blinked and swallowed. “What?”

“You have a whole album and everything. It also says you're going to start touring.”

Demyx bit his lip. “Oh. That. The record company wouldn't take no for an answer, even though I really suck at everything. Apparently, I'm popular. I wouldn't know though, 'cause I don't exactly pay attention to the radio and stuff.”

“No wonder Zexion's coming back.”

“No,” a smooth voice said, “I came back because he asked me to.”

Demyx froze, he didn't dare turn around for fear of it not being who he wanted it to be. He bit his lip again and looked up slightly.

“Don't look to the sky.”

Soft laughter. “If I say I won't, will you look at me?”

“Don't go, please.”

“I'm not going anywhere. Not after I beat out sixty people for a crappy job at Memory's Skyscraper just so I could be near you.”

“Liar. It was sixteen and ya were a shoo-in.”

Demyx turned around to face a very real, very skinny young man with slate-grey hair. His vision blurred as he jumped up and hugged the boy tightly. He never wanted to let go, but Axel pried him away and sat him back down. The other sat down next to him and pulled a package from the pocket of his jacket.

He placed it in front of Demyx and waited. Demyx picked it up and opened it cautiously. He opened it to find a single sheet of faded, blue lined notebook paper and a CD. He glanced over and grinned before picking up the CD and holding it out.

“I thought I told you to sell this on eBay.”

“Couldn't. I missed you too much and I couldn't afford to spend a dollar eighty every hour I talked to you or send you letters with the rising post rate. I needed to get back here somehow.”

“I think you're a retard, Zexion.”

And with that, Demyx pulled Zexion into another tight hug and whispered into his ear the million and one things he'd been wanting to say. Zexion listened quietly as Demyx talked his ear off. The only thing Zexion could say was:

“I thought you said you were going to get a real job.”

To that, Demyx could only laugh. This couldn't be a dream then, only the real Zexion would remember such a trivial thing and bring it up. It would appear, to Demyx anyway, that on Ocean Avenue people are brought together.

It was like a paopu fruit, except less messy and . . . Fruity.


End file.
